Ryan's Rapture
by Spartan067
Summary: Before 1960, Rapture was a spanning metropolis, with many people who had their tales to tell. One of them was the boy who saw the beginning of this Brave New World.
1. Prologue

Prologue

June 19th, 1948

"I am Andrew Ryan"

Those were the words that started it all. There was three of us, My father, dressed in that expensive business suit he saved for the occasion, my mother in that plain blue dress she liked to wear, and me with my polo shirt, and corduroys. We were sitting in the cramped room of the Bathysphere, just the three of us, as it descended down its path into the Atlantic Ocean.

The year is 1948. My name is Neel Chandra. My Father, Ram Chandra, is an Indian engineer, who managed to find a way to refine and produce a metal, stronger, durable, and more reliable than any other alloy in existence. My mother, Sita, is his devoted wife. I am his son, destined to carry on the family business. When Andrew Ryan was creating his city, He needed powerful metal, strong enough to withstand the pressure of the sea. My Father's invention was perfect for this. He moved to America where he met Ryan, and they made the agreement.

I came here with them to take up the family business. At the tender age of 15, I was to begin my secondary schooling in Rapture.

"Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?" asked the Image of Andrew Ryan in a loud and commanding voice on the screen in front of us. He then began to rant about how it was rightfully ours, but was instead devoted to the poor, god, and everyone else.

"I rejected these answers; I chose the impossible I chose…Rapture."

The screen pulled away and I saw the impossible.

It was a city. Deep in the Atlantic Ocean was a city.

The city was a dull shade of blue, but was studded with bright glowing lights. Two searchlights scanned the sea eagerly, revealing the sight of more Bathyspheres around ours. Neon signs marked the buildings. I saw a casino, a restaurant, a coffee shop. The buildings were sculpted in Art Deco, and curiously reminded me of Manhattan, where I was born and raised.

I had to stifle a laugh when we went past a barbershop. It's funny how extraordinary one of those things look when it was at the bottom of the ocean.

"A city where the artist would not fear the censor,

Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality,

Where the great would not be constrained by the small."

And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city, as well."

The Bathysphere slowly careened a tube, inscribed upon it "All good things come to this city"

_Well, Rapture,_ _let's see what you have in store_.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

June 19th 1948

When we got out of the Bathysphere, we seemed to be in what appeared to be a train station. Crowds of people stepped out of the round metal spheres that contained them. All went through a corridor, carpeted in red until they entered a cavernous lounge. A group of couches were arranged around the place, near some ashtrays and tables. Lamps dotted the place, giving it a warm glow. The windows outside were a murky blue, and gave a view of the ocean. I saw dark shapes dart across the windows. _Fish_. I thought. _We'll wake up to hearing whale songs instead of Birds chirping_.

In a corner was a glass case about 5 feet tall. It held in it a few sculpted Bronze buildings. At the base of the case was a plaque that read _Rapture: November 5, 1946. One man's vision, mankind's salvation._

My first impression of Mankind's Salvation: It was kind of drafty.

"This should certainly be an interesting beginning." My father proclaimed cheerfully, his mustache flecked with Alfredo sauce from his pasta. We were eating at a table in a particularly fancy restaurant called _Kashmir Restaurant_. The title gave me a nasty thought about India. _Well, the British won't rule us here._ The room was large and spacious, like what the rest of Rapture was supposed to be like. It had two floors, the first one being a dance floor and bar, and the second being the floor with the tables. We were at a table next to the Balcony, where a globe with "Rapture" written on it in glowing letters revolved slowly.

"Reminds me of Manhattan." replied my mother, who was stirring her soup.

"Manhattan wasn't in the middle of the Atlantic" I said icily. I stared at the pink, half-eaten Salmon on my plate. It sucked.

"Well, this place is better than Manhattan. Much more business friendly." Replied my father.

"I never expected business to be better at the bottom of the sea." I retorted.

"Now Neel-"My father started to get angry, but my mother took my him by the arm, where she led him down to the dance floor. The tune to The Ink Spot's "If I didn't care" played throughout the restaurant.

To be honest, I still couldn't believe that I was in a city under the sea. The Bathysphere ride seemed like something out of an Amusement Park, like a really good ride. The reinforced glass tunnels that led you from one part of the building to the other seemed like they should belong in an Aquarium. That's what I felt like I was in. Rapture was an inside-out aquarium, where the fish watched us.

I looked at the other tables. Most of the people there were dressed in fancy clothes. The men wore expensive suits, with stiff starched white- collars, and the women were in expensive multicolored cocktail dresses. This place seemed like a restaurant for the rich men of Rapture. _I wonder if the poor would ever riot over a place like this. _I thought to myself. _Oh well. If they did, it would probably be over the salmon. _

My eyes caught sight of girl my age. She was tall, thin, and had red hair. Her light brown eyes looked with disinterest at a glass of water she had on the table, and her red hair was tied up neatly in a bun. She wore black horn rimmed glasses, which currently rested at the tip of her nose. Her black ankle-length skirt and crisp white blouse gave her a look of maturity. Assertiveness. She gave me a sideways look, and beckoned me over.

I got up and walked to her, feeling awkward in my polo shirt and jeans. She looked at me: tall, lanky, straight out of a growth spurt, with sharp features, and dark eyes.

"They said Rapture's for the best and brightest. How the hell did you get here?" She asked impertinently, a smirk on her face.

"My dad thought that selling his newfangled invention to a guy who read too much Ayn Rand, so that he could build a giant fish tank under the sea was a good way to spend the summer." She laughed

"I'm here because my Parents were going out of business. Honestly, I don't know what they expect to find at the bottom of the ocean."

We were silent for a little bit, as the song changed. The tune changed. The tune became more lively, as It played "Beyond the Sea" by Bobby Darin.

"Would you like to dance?" I asked her.

"I've only just met you… but what the hell." She grabbed my arm and we went down to the dancing floor.

_"Somewhere beyond the sea_

_somewhere waiting for me_

_my lover stands on golden sands_

_and watches the ships that go sailin'"_

We slowly rocked in each other's arms. As my gaze went into her eyes, I discovered they were a light brown, almost amber in color. My gaze then shifted to my father, who caught my eye as He was dancing with my mother. He gave me a wink, to which I promptly blushed.

"What's your name?" asked the girl who was dancing with me.

"Neel. Neel Chandra." I replied.

"Nice to meet you, Neel Chandra. I'm Christina. Christina De la Plante."

"Nice to meet you, Christina."

I couldn't believe my luck. Here I was at the bottom of the ocean, dancing with some girl that I just met, and probably won't ever meet again.

One thing's certain. Today was the biggest shock of my life.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

June 19th 1948

When we left the Party in in the Kashmir Restaurant, my father stopped in the Le_ Marquis d'Epoque _store, which was right next to the restaurant to buy a box of cigarettes and a bottle of wine. I stood outside to admire a bronze sculpture of a fist tenaciously gripping a chain. Underneath the chain, in a red banner emblazoned with gold letters were the words: _The Great Chain is guided by our hands_.

I snickered and took a look at my right hand. _The only chain I would be holding is in my pants ._ On that note, I couldn't understand it. Andrew Ryan wanted to create a society of individuals, united by a "chain of industry."

_A city of individuals, each out for his own success. That's what you built, Ryan. And now, you expect us to be bound together? Tied around your "great chain" of industry? If you have your "individuals" tugging against the great chain, they'll be tearing it apart_. Another chilling thought went through my head. _We are only as strong as our weakest link._

My thoughts returned back to the present, when my father came out with a bottle of wine and a pack of_ Oxford Club Cigars_ in his arms. _Well, enough about chains._ We walked to the Metro.

On the way to the Metro I saw another banner. _There are no gods or kings, only man._

_But a man chooses, Mr. Ryan. A man chooses. And what you shall choose would be the fate of Rapture._

I didn't like it down here. I'm not into politics, but I know it when someone is drunk on their own wine. This city's too good to be true (even if it's on the bottom of the ocean) and you know that something is wrong with a man who claims to hold mankind's salvation under the sea.

We reached the Metro, which was basically a system of Bathyspheres that carried people to their desired locations. They were well lit inside, and travelled through pre-programmed pathways to their destinations.

My father came here for money. I couldn't blame him. He grew up as a poor man in India, and life was shit under the British. I suppose to him, money wasn't for luxury, but a tool to live comfortably. My mother knew him since they were children, and probably lived a life like he did. _And here I was acting like a little kid who couldn't go to the park anymore._

On the surface, we weren't particularly poor. My father worked as an engineer in an Indian metal company, where he managed to design the metal-building process. My mother was an accountant who managed the metal company's finances. They eventually got married and had me. My father, whose company doubted his research and refused to by his metal, got a reasonable market in Andrew Ryan, a businessman. My father sold the goods, and he became a rich man.

The Bathysphere surfaced from its station. We exited it and I saw a tram system, marked again with _Rapture Metro_. An automated voice called out "10 minutes to next tram."

"Do you like the architecture here?" asked my father.

"What, the art deco design?" asked my mother.

"Yes. I specifically asked Ryan to request the architects to build the city this way. You know how I love it."

"It's just like you to build the city so that it looks like the entire goddamn Rockerfeller Center, dad." I chimed in.

"Just my little touch of Manhattan, Neel."

I let out a laugh. Sure he dragged us to the world's biggest saltwater fish tank, but he was my father.

Just then, a tram car rolled onto the city, accompanied with a bell sound. An Automated voice called out "Tram to Olympus heights leaving in 5 minutes."

We got on the tram, which was outfitted with a set of brown leather chairs and overhead lighting. Opposite to us, there was a young woman. She was wearing a pink dress with a leather belt. She looked at me and I noticed her eyes were brown.

"Are you new to Rapture?" she asked us in a thick German accent.

"Yes, we've just arrived. I take it you live in Mercury Suites as well?" Replied my father.

"Yes. My name is Brigid Tenebaum" she extended a hand, which My father firmly grasped and shook.

"Ram Chandra. This is my wife Sita, and my son, Neel."

The tram came to a stop, and we exited in front of a large building, marked with the sign _Welcome to Mercury Suites_.

"Mercury suites? For an atheist, this Ryan has a very high interest in Greek Mythology."

After we picked up our key at the receptionist's desk, we walked up a flight of stairs to our new home. I opened up to a particularly large Apartment. There was a large kitchen/ dining room, with a circular wooden table with six chairs, a living room with a couch and a coffee table, and two bedrooms: one with a large bed, belonging to my Mother, and another with a smaller one, belonging to me. There was a decent sized tiled bathroom, with a toilet, sink, and a shower tub.

I kicked off my shoes, and lied down the small bed, thinking of how the day came. Here I was, in an underwater city, built by dreams. Not just my father's brainchild, Chandra metal, but the dreams of Andrew Ryan, who hoped to save the individual. I thought of Christina De la Plante, the girl who I've never met before, and perhaps won't ever meet again. I thought of the dance we shared. It was a little thing, yet it mattered so much. I thought of the German woman, Brigid Tenebaum, who may have a touch of destiny. I'm normally not sentimental like this, but there's always a first time.

And as I closed my eyes, a small satisfied smile curled up on my face. I never realized how tired I was when I fell asleep.

_It may take a while, but I think I'll come to like this place._


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

June 21, 1948

We were going to throw a party in the apartment. Everyone on our floor was invited. That meant that we needed to take a stop in downtown Rapture to get the supplies.

We got acclimated rather fluidly. The moving service came in shortly, and we managed to receive our personal belongings. I opened my trunk to my favorite set of clothes, which I hung in the closet, and a copy of _Brave New World_ by Aldous Huxley, which I placed in a wardrobe nearby. I also had a slim journal, which I placed on the writing desk in my room. Much to my chagrin, they confiscated my encyclopedia of the world and my books on Indian history. It was as if they wanted to cut us off completely from the surface.

I was pleasantly surprised at how many views of the sea we had in Rapture. The windows were large and rectangular, giving a luxurious view of the ocean. We also had a "balcony" which was encased in a reinforce glass bubble. The first time I sat there, I saw a giant squid swim by. It was a powerful sight. My eyes met the squid's, which were jet black, and with a spurt of water, it blasted away.

I think it was then, when I finally accepted that we were really under the ocean.

Our first stop was to the Farmer's market to buy some groceries. My father lent me some money (a hefty wad of 100 Rapture dollars, each with Andrew Ryan's face on it!) When our bathysphere arrived, it opened up first to the entrance of a ticket booth called "Arcadia" surrounded by a grass and a few trees.

"They've got plants down here?" I asked out loud. Then I clapped a hand to my mouth, realizing the volume of my outburst, and how stupid I must've looked when I shouted over a bit of greenery.

"Where do you think we get our oxygen?" my father asked rhetorically. I let the question sink in and realized he was right. It was obvious that we needed to breath in the bottom of the ocean with no air. What better way to allow us to breathe than by the oxygen from plants? I must admit that it still was jarring. It was like I never saw a tree before.

"Arcadia's the tree farm they've made down here," said my father. I gaped. Never mind the plants; they had a whole fucking forest. "Someday, I'll take you there."

We then went down to a corridor labeled Farmer's Market. We went down the glass tunnel corrider, to a bulkhead marked _Securis_, which looked very similar to the door of a bank vault. It _automatically_ opened up to Farmer's market.

The market had a pleasant garden theme to it, with cobblestone paths leading to the shops, and open grassy spaces. We bought our groceries there, then we headed back to the bathysphere: our next stop: Fort Frolic.

When we came to Fort Frolic, my first thought was that of Las Vegas. Multiple neon signs advertised various shops. Some were theatres, music halls, casinos, and, as I noted with distaste, "gentleman's clubs." Others were shops, selling things from fine clothing to drugs like tobacco and…ADAM?

"Dad, what's ADAM?" I asked my father.

"I dunno. Tenebaum, that woman we met on the train, apparently she's in the business."

"Whatever it is, it's pretty popular here."

My mother took me to the Gardner Deluxe to buy clothes. There we were picking out clothes for me to wear when the guests came. She chose for me a white button-down shirt with a navy blue vest, and a solid black tie to match it with and khaki pants.

After we bought these, we returned to our apartment, where we set up. I dressed in my new clothes; my father set up shot glasses, and laid out ashtrays. He took out the phonograph. My mother cooked food for the party. We were ready.

Slowly guests came trickling in. The party went relatively well, with many of the guests conversing, and my father playing many songs on the phonograph. They were munching on the Hors d'oeuvres, and even tried some of the Indian food we cooked.

Surprisingly, there weren't many people in the apartment that had children. I suppose planning to become Rapture's "best and brightest" meant not having enough time for getting busy. Fortunately, my parents thought that I was mature enough to interact with the adults.

We eventually served dinner, where everyone tasted the food.

The guests were interesting. There were scientists like, Mrs. Tenebaum, who we met earlier, and Dr. Yi Suchong, a Chinese man and a "Genetic genus." Currently, he was explaining me the mechanics of ADAM

"ADAM comes from a sea-slug located in this region. It produces stem cells, each with a powerful mutagenic power to overwrite native cells and replace it with their own. This allows people to change their very genetic code!" He exclaimed in a thick Chinese accent.

"It means that people can change everything about themselves. They can become faster, stronger, smarter. We've even managed to give them powers that they've never had before." Tenebaum added on.

"Adam may be the canvas, but Plasmids and Gene tonics are the paint." replied Suchong with an almost fanatical zeal.

"Speaking of canvas…" interjected Sander Cohen, an artist who was dressed particularly flamboyantly in the party, "Have you visited my art in Fort Frolic, Mister Chandra?"

"You can't call a waste of canvas art, Cohen." remarked Anna Culpepper, another artist, who seemed to have a bone to pick with Cohen.

"If it weren't for me owning Fort Frolic , Miss Culpepper, the amateurish noise that you call 'music' wouldn't sell a penny."

"If it weren't for you, _Mister Cohen_," she dragged out the words saucily "Neither would your cheap din."

"I'm afraid I haven't, though both you're art sounds very nice, Mister Cohen." I replied. That seemed to have quieted them down.

"Now now, let's not mix business with pleasure. We're at a party here." That was Frank Fontaine. The words came out of his mouth in with his thick Bronx accent. He then smiled. It was a leer that gave me the shudders.

There was something I didn't like about that man, though I couldn't put my finger on it. He was the owner of Fontaine Futuristics a business that sold ADAM products. How the hell did he get to there from being a fisherman. _There's something crooked about that man. I don't know what._

And as everyone left the apartment and said there goodbyes, I lay in bed thinking.

_Fontaine's not any ordinary thug. He's the most dangerous kind: The one with a vision._


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

September 3, 1948

It's my first day at _Taggart Academy of Secondary Education_. I must admit that I'm a bit excited. Spending my summer at the bottom of the ocean wasn't exactly my plan for vacation, but it went alright. I visited a few places in the city, and I must admit that I liked them. I visited _Rapture Memorial Museum _one time. It held a lot of interesting exhibits. Some were aquatic exhibits that showed the types of aquatic life that lived there, like the giant squid I saw and some types of fish. There was an excellent Whale Skeleton as well. The other exhibits were Rapture related things, such as a model of the lighthouse that marked where Rapture was, and a Bathysphere.

Speaking of Bathyspheres, That was the form of transportation to school. All one needed to do was take the Rapture Metro to the school. They were located in a section of Rapture known as _Aristotle._ This was the educational district where schools were located. Surprisingly, most schools in Rapture were public schools. However, this could solely be due to the fact that they were largely subsidized by corporations, and thus, were exposing students to an increased amount of consumerism.

I wore the typical _Taggart _Uniform: White collared shirt, black tie, navy blue blazer with the "T" crest embroidered on it, along with my name, and Khaki pants. My books were carried in a brown leather satchel.

The school was massive, almost as large as a college building. It was made of three rectangular buildings each constructed in the Art Deco style. In front of it was a kneeling figure holding a skeletal globe in the sky. _Atlas_ I thought to myself. It was the Titan of Greek mythology who could hold up the sky. I walked out of the Bathysphere, where my mother kissed me goodbye, and my father boomed "Have a great day." I skulked away, trying to put some distance between me and them. _First day of school on the bottom of the ocean, and they take the time to make you feel like a baby_.

I looked around the school's courtyard. Some of the boys were talking. I was surprised to see that there were not just white boys going to the school, but some Blacks, Asians, and even a few Indians. They even conversed freely with the other children. Some of the boys were talking with each other, and gave sideways glances to the girls. The girls were dressed in a similar uniform, but they were wearing women's blazers, blouses, and long black skirts. A group of boys were talking, with one of them smoking a cigarette.

I crouched down on the steps of the school, wondering whether I'd fit in or not. I wasn't much of a socializer on the surface, so I didn't think that I'd fit much down here.

"Are you new here?" asked a voice in front of me. I looked up to see a tall black boy with spectacles smiling down on me.

"Yes, I am." I replied. "Have a seat." I offered him. He sat down.

"I'm Wesley. Wesley Evans." He said extending a hand to me. I shook it and noticed that he was very strong.

"Neel. Neel Chandra." I replied.

Just then, the bell rang, and we walked to our classes.

My first class was History Class. Our teacher, Miss Ann Sharpe, wrote her name on the blackboard. She dressed in a slim black skirt, with a crisp blouse. Her hair was short and cut into a bob, and she had sharp, aquiline features. We sat down at the desks, each arranged neatly in a row, and took out our books. One was a history textbook, named _a history of the Surface world and Rapture_. I noticed, much to my pleasure that I was next to Wesley, who was talking to this white boy who chuckled good naturedly with him.

"Welcome to your first class in Rapture. My name is Miss Sharpe, and I will be teaching you today. Are there any questions?"

One beefy hand was raised in the back row. I turned back to see a fat, pink-cheeked boy with wavy blond hair smile jauntily.

"Yes?" asked Miss Sharpe tentatively.

"Miss Sharpe, what are all these Negroes doing at our school?" asked the boy impudently.

The whole class either burst out laughing, or murmured angrily. I blushed indignantly. Even at the bottom of the ocean, there were people who thought they could walk over others.

"What's the matter? Can't you pick your own cotton, Davis?" retorted Wesley, who's demeanor changed from kindly to violently incensed.

"ENOUGH!" shouted Miss Sharpe sternly. The class quieted down. "Well, Mr. Johnson," she said, addressing the blond boy, "This could be a useful first lesson, especially for you." She then proceeded to write "Racism" on the blackboard.

"Turn your textbooks to page 132," we did as we were instructed.

"Racism," read out Miss Sharpe, "Is the worst form of collectivism employed by The Parasites. It believes that human nature is assigned by allocated physical characteristics of a being, rather than his attained individual qualities. While some wish to bandy about the 'achievements' of their race, they fail to comprehend the fact that INDIVIDUALS and INDIVIDUALS ALONE can only create, while The Parasites basks in the luxuries allowed by this advancement, and the false pride that someone who The Parasites identify with, even if it is something so trivial as 'race.' " She finished the passage. Everyone was amazed at the power of her reading. Even the blond boy was bashful.

English class, which was led by Mr Martin Wynand, began with us beginning to read a book Written by Andrew Ryan. The hardcover book had a Navy blue cover and was embossed with the lighthouse that marked the location of Rapture. Embossed in gold letters below this image were the words: _Ryan's Rapture_: _An autobiography by Andrew Ryan_. We were assigned to read

The Opening paragraph began like this:

_What is the greatest lie ever created? What is the most vicious obscenity ever perpetrated on mankind? Slavery... the Holocaust... dictatorship... NO! It's the tool with which all that wickedness is built. Altruism. Whenever anyone wants others to do their work, they call upon their altruism. "Never mind your own needs," they say, "think of the needs of ..." of ... whoever. Of the state. Of the poor. Of the army. Of the king. Of God. The list goes on and on. How many catastrophes were launched with the words "think of yourself"? It's the "king and country" crowd who light the torch of destruction. It is this great inversion, this ancient lie, which has chained humanity to an endless cycle of guilt and failure._

My Curiosity piqued, I read on.

_My journey to Rapture was my second exodus. In 1919 I fled a country that had traded in despotism for insanity. The Marxist Revolution simply traded one lie for another. Instead of one man, the Czar, owning the work of all the people, ALL the people owned the work of all of the people. And so, I came to America, where a man could own his own work ... where a man could benefit from the brilliance of his own mind, the strength of his own muscles, the MIGHT of his own will. I had THOUGHT I had left the parasites of Moscow behind me. I had THOUGHT I had left the Marxist altruists to their collective farms and their five-year plans. But, as the German fools threw themselves on Hitler's sword for the good of the Reich, the Americans drank deeper and deeper of the Bolshevik poison, spoon-fed to them by Roosevelt and his New Dealers._

_And so, I asked myself, in what country was there a place for men like me? Men who refused to say yes to the parasites and the doubters. Men who believed that work was sacred and property rights inviolate. And then one day the happy answer came to me, my friends: there was NO country for people like me. And THAT was the moment I decided... to build one._

Andrew Ryan may have been a megalomaniac with way too much time and money, but I say, he was a pretty good writer.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

September 3, 1948

After English Class, we had lunch. For lunch, I bought a Chicken Panini with pesto and provolone cheese at the school cafeteria, which was named _Cornucopia_, along with some _Calci-o "_milk substitute." I took a seat at a table with Westley, who was seated with a few other people.

They were a lively bunch. One of the boys was an Italian fellow named Giuseppe Consiglio. He was the Casanova of our group, but his charm did not match his luck. There were others in our little clique. We had Jack Nakamura, a Japanese boy who loved science, and Jane Stokes, a British girl who planned on going into show business. Then there was Alejandro D'Anconia, who was on the school football team, and the only "cool" one of us.

We talked about how our days were going. Giuseppe and Jane were having a go at each other a bout Shakespeare

"Romeo fell in love with Rosalyn, then with Juliet just like that. How can we take his love for her seriously?" pondered Jane.

"C'mon, Jane. Romeo planned to marry her the very next day." Replied Giuseppe,

"Only so he could get in bed with her the very next day?"

"Not all men think with their cocks, you know."

"Yes, but enough do."

Meanwhile, D'Anconia and Nakamura were talking about the use of ADAM in sports.

"ADAM's allowed people to become better athletes without all the training. It's amazing the wonders of science." gushed Jack.

"Yes, Jack, but does it make the game better? I think there is a certain pride to be taken when one's hard work pays off." Retorted D'Anconia.

"ADAM evolves people, Alejandro. The game's gotta evolve, right?"

"There's no doubt that the game's gonna evolve, but will it still be the game?"

"Progress is change, man."

"But change isn't progress."

With that final remark, the bell rang, and lunch ended. Our next class was biology, so we headed to the labs.

"Good morning class," said Mr. Reedy, who was a tall, dark haired man who had sinister blue eyes. He seemed like the archetypical mad scientist to me. "Today, we will be teaching about one of the greatest advances in the field of genetics, and we will be having two special guests from Fontaine Futuristics…"

The door to our room opened, and Brigid Tenebaum and Yi Suchong entered the room. Tenebaum looked at me and smiled. Suchong walked with her and took out a large hypodermic needle, and a small cage carrying a white rat. He plugged the projector into an outlet, and dimmed the lights. The projector clicked on and the slideshow began.

"ADAM," began Tenebaum " Began with the discovery of a specific sea slug on the Wharves of Neptune's bounty" The slide began with the image of a burly man with calloused fingers and muscular arms "The sea slug was discovered by a worker, previously crippled, who regained the use of his hands after being bitten by the slug. After we recovered the slug, we discovered the cells in it that allow it to create the substance known as ADAM." The slide changed to a small bulbous bottle, whose cap was engraved with a human face, then to a large hypodermic needle not unlike the one Suchong had . "Currently, ADAM products are sold at Fontaine Futuristics for a reasonable price."

"Observe ADAM in action" said Suchong who opened the cage and began to inject the red liquid into the rat. He then placed it back into the cage. Initially, there was no change in the rat whatsoever, but then it began to darken; first to silver, then to grey, and finally to black. The rat completely changed color.

I couldn't believe my eyes. It looked like some sort of parlor trick, some sort of movie magic, yet there was nothing. Suchong smiled at our amazement "The ADAM rewrote the genetic code of the rat here. In this case, it altered the genes that affected fur color." The class then began to clap, for we didn't know what else to do with the miracle.

"For homework, exclaimed Mr. Reedy, write a paragraph about ADAM and the potential it has for Rapture and its future.

_So this is ADAM._ I thought to myself. _Scary stuff._

END OF PART 1


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

December 2, 1948

Today, I get to visit my shrink.

Now don't get me wrong, here. I'm not crazy (Well, I guess I might if I agreed to head down into "Mankind's Salvation," so sue me.) It's just that I haven't been feeling quite myself nowadays. It's harder to wake up in the mornings, and I feel so drained. The city skyline, navy silhouettes of towering buildings outlined in neon lights, used to be an exhilarating sight to me. Now, they just seemed depressing.

The news said these feelings of depression and apathy came from a new psychological disorder called "Wet Lag" which came from a lack of exposure to sunlight. Long story short, Andrew Ryan brought in psychiatric professionals to Rapture, and is recommending psychiatric sessions with these doctors.

Which is why I currently have a date with the doctors at The Medical Pavilion.

"Don't be late, Neel!" shouted my mother as she got in the bathysphere.

"Coming, mother!" I shouted. I grabbed my copy of _Brave New World _and headed inside the bathysphere. She was taking me to it because she also had an appointment with the dentist.

We arrived at the Medical Pavilon. I walked upon the black and white checkered floor and sniffed. It had that same smell that all hospitals had, a pervading aroma of disinfectant. There were two stairways leading upstairs, in between them a receptionist's desk where a thin woman with short brown hair and cat's eyes glasses looked up at us.

"We've come here for the appointment with Dr. Sofia Lamb" said my mother. The receptionist looked up at her with disinterest. She gave us the directions and we walked off.

Walking through the halls, I noticed many advertisements prescribing Dr. J.S. Steinman's plastic surgery treatment. From what I heard, he thought of himself to be an artist. _What if he thinks he's Picasso?_ I thought snickering to myself. _Then I'd like what people will say about his "art"_.

We soon arrived next to a frosted glass office door with the black letters: _Dr. Sofia Lamb_ emblazoned on them. Next to it were a group of chairs. I sat down on one of these chairs.

"I'll be back, Neel." said my mother who walked off to find the dentist's office. I sat down worrying about this Lamb shrink. _I've never had my brain examined before_ I thought sheepishly. _Maybe the only thing separating the doctor and the nutcase will be a white coat_

The frosted glass door creaked open, and a blond woman in her late 30's in a white coat with black glasses and piercing blue eyes peered at me. She was the sort of woman who could have looked attractive but whose demeanor was too serious to allow her to be so.

"You must be Neel Chandra. Come in." she said. Reluctantly I entered the room. There was a brown leather couch in the room, with a wooden chair beside it.

"Sit down. Lie down if you wish." Said Lamb in a voice that was commanding and requesting. I did as I was told, laying my body out on the cool, soft, leather. Lamb sat down in the chair, and pulled out a small notebook and a fountain pen.

"So doctor, what are we going to be talking about?"

"Not many things, Neel. Your mother says that you've been having the widespread depression in the city. I believe they called it 'Wet Lag?'"

"Yes, doctor."

"Call me Sofia."

"Alright Sofia." I replied uneasily. She was no ordinary psychiatrist.

"How does this depression make you feel?" she asked me.

"Well, _Sofia_, it makes me think about how…isolated everyone is under the sea. It's gloomy, when you think about how you're all alone in this city, away from everyone else. And what I would give for a little ray of sunshine…" much to my embarrassment, my voice came out in a whining and pleading sort of way.

"I see. So you think that you're like this because you feel cut off from the world?"

"Yes, and on that note, the competition and capitalism in the city is putting us against each other. We're trying to be better, stronger, and more productive then our neighbors. It's just so…alienating!"

"So you're saying you feel isolated, and you're tired of Ryan's society of "me". That rather than being drawn to your fellow Rapturians by your ambitions for your success, you feel as though you are driven apart?"

_ "_Um…yeah." This was getting weirder by the second. First Lamb was asking me about how I felt in the city, and then she was starting on something about how Ryan's philosophy was tearing us all apart. This woman definitely had her own agenda. But I'm not willing to play her game.

"Do you feel as though you ought to be part of something bigger? Something more than Ryan's pursuit of self?" Lamb seemed to become more alert, galvanized.

"Doctor, what are you suggesting?" I asked forwardly.

"Nothing." said Lamb. She deflated and seemed to regain her composure. "If you want to learn more," she said "Wear this pin to your next appointment." She handed me a small silver pin in the shape of a butterfly. If you don't, then we won't speak about it."

"Alright Doctor. May I go now?" I asked in the politest voice that I could muster. My legs were itching to go to the door.

"Yes, you may." She said in that calm, clinical voice of hers. I did my best not to bolt when I walked out the door.

I closed the door slowly behind me. _That Lamb needs therapy, not me!_ I shuddered.

"Was she that bad?" asked a familiar voice. I turned to see Christina De la Plante. She was just the same as usual but she wasn't wearing any glasses, and her eyes were now blue instead of brown.

"Christina, if you love your sanity, don't go into that room." she laughed. "And what happened to your glasses?" I inquired.

"I just got ADAM surgery. Fixed my eyes."

"Except they're blue."

"Yeah, I talked my mother into it."

Just then _my_ mother walked to the room. In her hand was a bright red plasmid jar marked "telekinesis" and hypo.

"How was the session, Neel?" my mother asked.

"It was fine, mother. Let's go." I said a quick goodbye to Christina (who inconspicuously passed me her telephone number.) then walked off.

_That Lamb character is almost as crazy as Ryan. I hope she doesn't build her own city._


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

December 2nd 1948

Spliced for the first time today.

No that it wasn't something that I'd brag about. Actually, it kinda sucked.

So I was lying in bed with the new plasmid, marked "Telekinesis." Apparently my mom got it from Dandy Dental for her root canal as a free sample. Not a bad deal, I suppose. Moving matter with your mind is with having your teeth drilled. It read that the plasmid allowed you to manipulate objects telepathically, but it may cost some EVE (The byproduct plasmids produce to help them work) when you throw things. (Or as it said "may deplete EVE resources when used to move objects forcefully.")

My parents were out on a trip to get groceries, so I was fine. I filled a hypo from the jar and looked at the bright red liquid in it. I noticed the slight glow that it gave off. _Now or never,_ I thought to myself. I traced my arm to find the faint, blue bulge of a vein in my arm. Gingerly, I placed the needle in my vein, and grimaced at the dull twinge I felt. I depressed the plunger of the syringe, and watched the plasmid course through my veins.

Suddenly, a sharp pain cut through me. My hands trembled like leaves in the wind, and I realized my entire body was convulsing. I doubled over, and rolled out of the bed, grunting in agony. My vision started blurring until even my own hands seemed like cloudy brown shapes in front of my eyes. For a minute, I was in hell. When the convulsing stopped, and my sight came back. I realized I was alright again. I read under the bottle:

_WARNING: First splice results in the reprogramming of the genetic code which can lead to: Acute Pain, Convulsions, and Disorientation. Prolonged splicing may result in physical and mental degradation. Signs of EVE depletion includes tiredness, numbness in hands, dizziness, and nausea. _

_This is why one should always read the labels_. I thought to myself. I felt a tingling feeling in my hands, and I saw that they involuntarily clenched and twitched.

_To use Telekinesis,_ said the instructions, _focus your mind on an object, and then flick you palm the object with fingers curled to bring an object in front of you. Splay your hands to send the object away from you at high speeds. Objects in air can be manipulated by moving your fingers. _I placed my copy _Ryan's Rapture_ on the desk in my room then flicked my palm at it. I concentrated on the book, willing it to come towards me. With a rush of wind, the book flew through the air and hovered inches in front of my face. I wiggled my fingers, causing the book to turn slowly in the air. I pushed my fingers forward to increase the distance between me and the book, and pulled my finger back to bring it closer towards me. I relaxed my hand and let the book drop on the bed.

I tried telekinesis a few more times. I managed to pull and throw a few more things before my hands went numb. _Looks like I'm out of EVE_.

Using the plasmid gave me a bit of a headache, so I lied down a little bit. Splicing was a real bitch. _One plasmid could take the mickey out of you, why would people do more? _

My parents finally came back from buying groceries, where I quietly hid the plasmid jar and hypo.

"Neel, where's the plasmid I got from Dandy Dental?" asked my mother.

"Um… it was good?" I replied.

"Neel, you didn't splice all of it did you?" she asked

"No mom, just a hypo."

"Good, could you lend it to me?" she asked.

"Yes, but I think it'll be a real doozy to splice." She took it and went into her room.

Eventually, the eve recharged, so I could use telekinesis again. I started practicing with the finer skills with it. I aimed at the doorknob with my fingers outstretched, then rotated my hand clockwise. The doorknob wiggled, but it didn't open. I think I just didn't have the practiced mental concentration to open it.

I phoned Christina later that night. We talked for a little bit.

"I haven't seen you in ages. How are things going for you?" I asked.

"Things are alright. I go to Francon High. You?"

"I'm in Taggart. They're both in Aristotle, aren't they?"

"What, the Rapture School district? Yeah. Apparently they're mortal enemies!" she gushed.

"It's not gonna end up as a Romeo-Juliet thing between us, isn't it?" I asked jokingly.

"You read too much Shakespeare, Neel." She laughed.

"Spliced for the first time, today." I said nonchalantly, trying to be cool.

"Ooh! What a badass!" she exclaimed, feigning admiration

"It was a real pain to inject" I said, trying to deflate myself.

"I know. The ADAM drops they gave to change my eye color really burned them."

"Well, you are changing the genetic code." I was beginning to get a bit more courageous.

"So Christina," I started. "I was wondering if I could see you sometime later," the proposal came out awkwardly.

"What, as in a date?" she asked, her voice getting more serious.

"Yeah, I guess you could call it that." I slowly regained my footing.

"That would be nice. Where would you want to go?" she asked. I could tell she was deliberately making her voice indistinct.

"Arcadia, perhaps." I suggested that place because I always wanted to go there, and I knew the Giuseppe took Jane to see the place, and she liked it.

"How about in a couple days?" she said. "I think I can spare the time."

"Yeah, I guess that'll be good." My mum was calling me for dinner. " I have to go Christina."

"Alright. Good night, Neel."

"Good night Christina." I hung up the phone, then headed down to the dinner table.

At the table, I absentmindedly chewed on my food. The whole thing seemed surreal, like something out of a bad book. But the thought still rang out true. _I just got a girlfriend!_


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

December 9, 1948

Arcadia. As far as I know, the only forest in the bottom of the ocean. Ryan had his scientists build this place to provide the oxygen for Rapture. Funny how it also provided the best place to take your date. Quite honestly the only reason I went to Arcadia was because I've never been there before.

I picked up Christina and her parents at the Bathysphere. They lived around Apollo Square, which was a decent working/middle class residential place. I got to meet her parents, Mr. and Mrs. De la Plante. They were decent people, who owned a hardware store on the surface, and continued the business down in Rapture. Mr. De la Plante even showed me the first tool he made: a bright red pipe wrench, 12 inches long. It felt powerful in my hands.

Now, we were sitting on a park bench in the Tea Garden. The place was covered with many green plants, and ivy covered the rocks. There were many flowers around the place, like roses, cherry blossoms, lilies, and other things. Behind us, a small waterfall gurgled serenely.

"How was life for you on the surface?" I asked.

"Well, I used to live in Manhattan-"

"So did I." I interrupted. It was funny how we lived in the same city, yet never met.

"Really? Did you like it?" she asked, her curiosity peaked."

"Oh yes. Have you ever visited the Rockerfeller Center at Christmas Eve?"

"Yeah, it's beautiful. I love the Architecture. Art Deco's always looks good."

"That's how the city was made."

"I knew it looked familiar."

We talked for a bit more. I was surprised how well we hit it off. We did mostly small talk. Sometime later, we went on to politics.

"Yeah, I was in Lambs office. She's crazy. She thinks some sort of 'utopian family' will be our salvation."

"Well, Ryan's the one who built an underwater city just because he didn't want to pay income tax." I retorted.

"Why would people agree to come here? Both you and I came because we had no choice."

"Maybe they've got things to run from. Perhaps they actually believed that 'sweat of your brow' crap. Or maybe they've just wanted to live at the bottom of the sea." She held onto my arm and leaned against me. I tried not to blush, and failed at it.

"Maybe we've been brought down so we could finally meet." She purred. Her voice was soothing.

"Christina, why don't you like me?" I asked suddenly. She pulled back.

"Why do you ask?" she said

"Because we only just met…." I then understood that I was killing the mood. "Sorry, the thing is that I like you too, but."

"It's okay. I just thought that you're someone I could restart my life with in this godforsaken bucket of sea water." "And you're actually rather cute."

"I asked you to dance with me because I thought I'd never see you again. I asked you to this date because when I was wrong, I knew it must've meant something."

"You're a fool, you know that?" she seemed to be in a dreamy state of contentment

"I suppose that makes you the bigger one." I replied.

We walked for a little bit more in the garden, and then moved onto the rolling hills. They were smooth, hilly places, with less trees and vines, and more grass. We eventually came across a small cave. Under closer inspection, I saw three figures, with clothes streaked in red and masks made of twigs and leaves. On the altar, there were goblets and pumpkins. The figures held three different goblets, each filled with a glowing red liquid. _Was it ADAM?_ I thought to myself.

The figures looked at us, and then burst in a cloud of red mist. Christina and I just stared for a moment, and then I grabbed her arm and made dash to the bathysphere. I decided to end the date when the going was good.

The bathysphere slowly made it to Apollo Square. I kissed Christina quickly before letting her go. She hurried her way home.

_Not bad for a first date_.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

February 4th 1949

My dad decided to take me to work today. After all, I was going to inherit the business. We took a trip down to Hephaestus this morning.

"This is your future, Neel." He said brightly. Hephaestus was the main power facility of Rapture and was home to business workshops, mainly in the manufacturing businesses. Chandra metal was one of them.

When the Bathysphere surfaced, I saw that instead of the usual dark bluish color that most environments in Rapture had, Hephaestus was a bright orange. I soon figured out that this was because of its location.

You see, the heart of Rapture is located right near a volcanic vent.

Don't worry, the Volcano wasn't close enough to harm anybody, but the heat was still there. When I got out of the bathysphere, I felt like I was in an oven. I knew that the rest of Rapture was a little on the cold side, but still…This was hot.

We soon got to the workshops where my father made his metal. In a desk out front was a tall man in a business suit with dark hair and sharp features.

"Good day, Mr. Kyburz." said my father to him.

"Hello, Mr. Chandra." He replied. After the small talk, we moved on to the furnaces.

I entered a large room that was lit a bright orange due to the large smelting vat that was the centerpiece of the room. Inside the vat were gallons of molten metal, which would eventually be forged into a multitude of things. Around the edge, workers in protective clothing poured the special solution that gave Chandra metal its properties.

"What are they dumping in the molten metal, dad?" I asked my father.

"Concentrated sea water," He replied. I was taken aback.

"Sea water?" I asked incredulously.

"Neel, what are the main ingredients in strong metals?"

"Let's see…Copper, Iron, Nickel, Manganese-"

"Stop there. Manganese is very important in strengthening metal; it can make or break alloys."

"And sea water contains it," I was beginning to understand now. "But it contains so little of it."

"Neel, we're under the ocean, there's plenty of sea water." He smiled, proving the method to his madness. "I think I'll show you the mines."

We made our way deeper through the mill to a room with some shelves and a hatch. My father strapped a hard hat and a gas mask on my head then his own, and continued down the hatch.

Rapture is full of surprises. Like how it stood in place.

The city was built on a large platform many square miles in area, which was attached to a cavern underneath by various large drills. Currently we were in that cavern. I looked up to see the many stalactites that jutted up between the drills, looking sharp and fierce. One particularly large one was a few inches from my head. The Cavern had a corridor designated as the "mines" which my father led me through.

As we went down the mine shaft, I noticed that the number of stalactites and stalagmites became fewer and fewer, and eventually the place was smooth. Lanterns hung from hooks stuck into the wall, and we reached the end of the tunnel.

In another large cavern (surprise, surprise) was a large, smoothed, atrium with a pool of water containing a submersible in the middle. Around the submersible was a set of tracks each radiating outward from the sub to various other mineshafts. We went inside the sub.

The submarine was actually quite roomy, with multiple portholes the size of a Manhole cover. There was a main room with twelve seats, six on each side of the sub facing a porthole, and a cargo room that contained multiple diving suits.

The diving suits themselves were a spectacle. The helmets had one single porthole, and multiple airtubes connected to two oxygen tanks on the back of the suit. On the right hand of the suit was a large, sharp drill.

"Bought these things off straight from Gilbert Alexander" said my father. "He's an engineering genius, that man."

I looked out the window and saw that we were going into an underwater cave. Inside the cave, men in diving suits identical to the ones in the sub were drilling a way at the walls, placing the chunks of rock into large capsules beside them. One man saw my face, pressed against the porthole, and waved. I bashfully withdrew. I looked at the labyrinth of tunnels, sparsely populated by miners in diving suits.

"Neel…Welcome to the Pluto mines."

When we got out, I couldn't help but thinking _my dad is so cool_. But we had a surprising visitor.

It was there I got acquainted with Andrew Ryan.

For such a famous bigwig, he wasn't something particularly special. He dressed in a brown, double breasted suit with matching trousers, and a collared shirt with a striped black and silver necktie. In his breast pocket was a golden handkerchief. He had a thin mustache, with a receding head of brown hair.

"Hello Mr. Chandra," he said to my father with an austere look on his face.

"Hello, Mr. Ryan," replied my father.

"May I discuss something privately with you?" he asked.

They went to Ryan's office in Rapture Central Control, while I sat outside on a chair in the lobby. There were several busts of Andrew Ryan, along with the logo of Ryan Industries.

I could hear my father and Ryan discussing the costs of producing metal for Ryan Industries. I figured it would be something like that. Business bullshit.

Ryan was going about how ridiculously long it took make metal for the construction.

"Well, Mr. Ryan, if you wanted things to go smoother, you shouldn't have built Utopia on the ocean floor."

"Where else could we be free from the clutching hand of the Parasites? Where else could we build an economy that they would not try to control, a society that they would not try to destroy? It was not impossible to build Rapture at the bottom of the sea. It was impossible to build it anywhere else."

_Well Mr. Ryan_, I thought to myself _you could've sent it floating in the sky._


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

April 3rd, 1949

Today was just another ordinary day at school. I headed off the Bathysphere to Taggart. On the way, I met up with Wesley and Giuseppe on the steps, and we headed to our first class of the day, Surface Studies.

Surface studies (also called "Topside 101") can be most accurately described as my favorite class because it's one of the few classes that actually allow us to debate politics, as well as talk about the surface. Currently we were talking about "The One Law"

The city has applied one universal law, and is perhaps the only law in the city that allows capital punishment. No contact is allowed with the surface. That means, that anybody caught possessing or dispensing topside goods would get hung by their necks until dead. Our teacher, Ms Francon was talking about this unique turn of events.

"Tell me class, why do you think Mr. Ryan has made a law not to make any contact with the surface?" she asked. Everyone murmured to themselves.

"So he could corner the market on underwater real estate." One boy jested.

"Probably to protect our rights to free trade and money." Droned another girl.

I looked out of one of the windows into the ocean. Ryan built Rapture because he was an absolutist. He had this absolutist man vs. society view of the world. He saw everything in black and white. Men produce, parasites mooch. God is a tool of the parasites, state is the tool of the parasite, the king is the tool of the parasite. When he couldn't live the way he wanted to, he wanted out. And so, he built Rapture, his final bastion to the rights of the "free man."

In a way, it wasn't bad. Rapture gave a chance to many people who were going to rot on the surface. My father, who would've remained a petty engineer for the rest of his life, Mr. De la Plante, who would've gone broke. Even Frank Fontaine, the only man rich enough to match Andrew Ryan in capital, grew up in the Great Depression. I guess that Rapture is the answer.

Meanwhile, the class was talking about the punishments.

"I think that the death penalty is awfully severe for doing something like that. It's the wrong way to deal with it."

"Ryan's just trying to protect Rapture. After all, if we do business with the surface world, it'll make us vulnerable to the outside."

"Well, the problem isn't the goods themselves; it's the demand for them. I'm not saying that we should start an economy with the surface, but we ought to find a way to mediate interests. ``

Then things took a change for the worse.

"I want you all to know that smuggling is a serious crime. Not only is it a major breach of security, it is an act of treason to Rapture. It is an act of surrender to the parasites on the surface world. It tells them that you cannot live without them, even in Rapture. Smugglers and their customers are not men. They are slaves."

There was a murmur of agreement throughout the classroom.

_What a load of horseshit_. I thought to myself. _If anything, we're slaves of the chain._

It turned out that smuggling lecture wasn't just talk. When I got home that day, Security Chief Sullivan, head of Rapture Security, was there waiting for me. He was a short man, with a thin mustache and neatly combed hair. He had dark round eyes, and his face had the calm demeanor of a professional. He sat at the dinner table across from my father, drinking a cup of tea.

"Good afternoon" he said to me.

"Something wrong?" I asked him, in an effort to try not to appear scared.

"Don't worry Neel. Your father isn't in any trouble. We only want to ask him a few questions."

"But he-"

"Neel, Go to your room." Said my father sternly. Obediently, I trooped there.

Once I was out of sight, I pressed my ear against the door, trying to listen in. I had no such luck though.

I heard the sound of a door closing, and I thought that Sullivan left. I went outside to face my father. He was watching TV on the sofa, and Sullivan was gone.

"What was that about?" I asked

"Frank Fontaine." He replied. "He's a business partner."

"You mean the fellow who lives on the floor, what about him?"

"It turns out that the police are suspecting him to be a smuggler." I took a double take

"Smuggler?" I asked. I knew that Fontaine was a shifty guy, but I didn't know he was that crooked.

"Yes. The Police want me to inform them on Fontaine."

So Fontaine was a gangster? This meant business.


End file.
